


The Lost Child

by Bluewolf458



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-30 04:30:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1014104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluewolf458/pseuds/Bluewolf458
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A woman finds a lost child</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lost Child

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sentinel Thursday for the prompt 'greeting'
> 
> I couldn't resist, and translated that into the Scots word 'greeting', which means 'crying'.

Jessie Robertson's dog suddenly stopped its mad full-speed circling, looked up, then ran over to a nearby clump of bushes. Jessie waited for a few moments, sure that whatever had caught Coll's attention would be of only fleeting interest to him, then realized that she could hear something... was that someone crying?

Worried that Coll had frightened someone, she hurried over, to find a small child - who couldn't be more than three years old, if that - sitting crying. From the clothes, she thought it was a boy, though few boys had hair quite that long. She knelt beside him. 

"Whit's wrang?" she asked gently. "Why are ye greeting?"

The child paid no attention.

Coll moved forwards and stuck his nose against the child's neck, then gently licked it.

That caught the boy's attention where Jessie's voice hadn't. He raised a tear-streaked face.

"Whit's wrang?" Jessie repeated.

Where an adult would have blown his nose, the boy - after the manner of children everywhere - simply sniffed as he began to stroke Coll. "I've lost my Mom." His voice quivered.

"Hoo did ye manage that?" Jessie kept her voice gentle, but her thoughts regarding the mother who had been so careless as to lose track of her child were vicious.

"We were going across the park, and there was a squirrel. I stopped to look at it, then began to run to catch up, but I tripped 'n fell. I tried to get up, but my ankle hurts."

As Jessie looked at the indicated ankle, she revised her guess of the boy's age upwards by a couple of years. He sounded a lot older than he looked. The ankle was swollen - possibly just twisted, but it could be broken.

She thought for a moment. What was the best thing to do? She certainly couldn't leave the child here... _Probably the police,_ she thought.

Then, faintly, she heard a voice calling. "Blair?... Blair, sweetie?"

The boy raised his head. So - the missing mother had finally come looking... Jessie stood.

"Ower here!"

The woman who ran over looked far, far too young to have a son that was three, let alone the revised age of five that Jessie had decided on.

"Blair! Oh, Sweetie, how did you manage to drop so far behind me?" She caught the child in a tight hug, pulling him away from Coll.

"He's hurt his ankle," Jessie said. "He fell an' couldna get up."

The woman raised her head to look at Jessie. "Thank you," she said. "Blair's really very capable, and sometimes I forget how young he still is."

Coll obviously decided that he wanted to be stroked again, and pushed in. The young mother joined Blair in stroking the dog for a moment, then stood, pulling Blair to his feet and then lifting him, balancing him on one hip. "Thank you," she said again. "Blair - "

"Thank you," he echoed, then added, "bye, doggie."

Jessie watched as the young woman carried her son - Blair - across the park, heading for the bus terminus. Though his clothes were clean and he didn't have the wary look that many abused or neglected children had, she was still far from convinced that the child wasn't at least semi-neglected, but as far as she could see the mother didn't show any sign that she was on drugs. Well, it wasn't her responsibility now.

It was getting late. Whistling to Coll, she turned and made her own way out of Camperdown Park. Time to go home and prepare her own family's evening meal.


End file.
